His bruised lips form a half smile.
“Nathan, is it true?” I say, leaning forward, whispering to him. “You’re Russian mafia?”“Done…nothing wrong.”I stare at him, but his eyes have slid shut again. No doubt the morphine is kicking in, mercifully easing his suffering. I struggle with what to do. I finally land on the fact that he’s innocent until proven guilty. If the cops have a case, they’ll make it and haul his Russian ass away. But he’s asking me to help him…what do I do?As if hearing my internal conflict, Nathan eyelids rise. “Framed,” he says, “I’m a businessman…graduated from…Cornell University.”Since when does the mafia attend Ivy League colleges? Who do I believe, him or the cops?“Look me up…” a slight smile touches his lips though his eyes remain shut. “G****e me.”I chuckle despite the situation. “Believe me, I will, and if you don’t check out, the gun’s going straight to the authorities.”His tortured smile widens. “What…what’s your name?”The question catches me off guard. It’s an innocuous enough question that, technically, doesn’t violate any rules. “Uh, Madison.”“Madison,” he whispers my name like a prayer. “My angel’s name…is Madison.”I snort with laughter. “Trust me, I’m no angel,” I say, even as I move to hide the gun in my emergency medical bag. “But for now,” I lower my voice and whisper in his ear, “it’s hidden.”He nods, a gentle warmth spreading across his face as he drifts into sleep.“What in the world are you still doing here?” says Chleo Weiss, the new chief resident. She eyes me with a mix of incredulity and wonder. “You’ve worked a double shift. Go home already.”I stop at the main nurses’ station with her. Her green scrubs hang from her tall slender frame. Her auburn hair is pulled back into its usual ponytail. This woman lives for the job. Rumor is, she’s divorced, and her ex has their two kids. Pot, meet kettle, I want to say. But instead, I reply, “Yeah, I am in a minute. I just wanted to check on a patient before I go.”Her finely plucked brow shoots up. “What patient can’t wait for tomorrow?”I shrug. “The valve replacement that came in this morning. I just want to look over her charts before I go, I have some thoughts on her case.”Chleo folds her arms across her chest. “You want to run them by me? I’d be interested to hear.”“I was reading up on a new procedure that I thought she might be a good candidate for, but it depends on how well she’s responding to the current treatment,” I say, refusing to so much as blink.Chleo has only been here six weeks and I’m still trying to determine whether she’s a friend or foe.She eyes me dubiously, then steps aside. I give her a tight smile and head down the hall. I try like hell to remember which room they placed that patient in. I purposefully stride passed Sebastian Petrosky’s room and curse myself for being so obvious. Or am I being paranoid? Chleo could honestly be concerned about one of their brightest medical students burning out.Between my rounds, and the cops always sniffing around Nathan room, it’s almost impossible to make my daily checks on him. My specific attention is no longer required, but the one time I missed a day from pure exhaustion, Nathan inquired as to where I’d been and why I hadn’t come to see him. And so, I make it a point to stop in to see him for a few minutes every day.After I swing by the valve replacement patient (just in case Nathan is watching), I make my way back down to the 3rdfloor to Nathan’s room. I glance down the hall before entering it, relieved to find that Nathan is gone.As I move down the hall, I again question my motives. I did my research on Nathan the night we rescued him. He is the eldest son of the late Layla, a Russian who was rumored to be a major crime boss back in Moscow. Layla moved her family to the U.S. when Nathan was eleven years old. A year or so later, Layla had been gunned down during a business deal gone bad. Her mum , while Nathan was left behind in the U.S. to be raised by Layla’s half sister, Mrs Wood.As Mrs Wood had no male heirs, it was widely held that Nathan was his heir apparent. Nathan for his part performed superbly in school and went on to earn an MBA with honors from Cornell University and was then recruited by Goldman Sachs Investment Banking firm as a securities analyst. Today, he runs several legitimate Russian import/export businesses along the East Coast as well as a small financial services company.After a few days of interrogating Sebastian, it became apparent that the cops had no clear case against him and had found no incriminating evidence in his car. No mention at all was made of a gun or what evil it might have been used to accomplish. Based upon that, I informed Sebastian that I’d tossed his gun into the Hudson River.It seemed to please him.Iseem to please him.I must confess that I did, of course I did, look up images of him as all I saw was a bruised and battered face with brilliant eyes. I’m not one to be caught up in looks and outward appearance, but damn if he wasn’t one of the most gorgeous men I’d ever laid eyes on. He has a face that belongs on the cover of a Calvin Klein cologne ad and a body that looks like it hasn’t missed a single day in the gym. He wore his light brown hair a little on the long side for the business world, but he made it work.Nathan’s been at the hospital recovering for about a week now. He’s been moved into a private suite and is visited often by his work associates and a couple of police detectives. When I enter the room, Nathan is sitting up in the bed tapping a text into his cell phone. His hair is neatly combed and he’s wearing a personal pajama top, burgundy, and opened at the chest where I spy a medallion around his neck. When he glances up, his expression is cold and bleak, until he realizes it’s me. A warm smile spreads across his face and it’s like the sun rising on a cold winter’s day.Dr. Wood , how good of you to come,” he says with only the faintest hint of a Russian accent. “It’s good medicine, seeing your smiling face.” Though he’d suffered from blunt head trauma, an open tib-fib fracture, and some internal bleeding, he was well on his way to recovering. His face was still a canvas of purples and yellow from the bruising, but at least the swelling had gone down. Every day, his handsome face became more and more visible.I pull up a chair next to his bed, careful not to knock over the fresh arrangement of flowers. I drop into the chair exhausted. “So, how’s my favorite patient doing today?”He frowns a little. “Better than you, I think. Has it been a rough day?”I chuckle. “I know, I know, I must look dreadful.”“Quite the contrary, Dr. Wood,” Nathan smiles, but he winces as if the mere effort is painful. “Like I said, it’s good medicine to see the lovely face of the angel who saved me.”I roll my eyes, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “Ken deserves just as much credit.”“But he’s not nearly as pretty as you.”“Ah,” I wave a finger at him, “that charm won’t knock a dime off your hospital bill.”He chuckles and winces.“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make you laugh.”“Sometimes a little pain is good, no?” he says with a devilish wink.“I’m in the business of relieving pain, not causing it.”“You wish to relieve my pain?”That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. “I haven’t spent four years in medical school for nothing.”“When I get out of here,” he says slyly, “and they say it’s in a couple of days, will you please have dinner with me?”Despite my exhaustion, my heart leaps in my chest. This guy, as charming and as handsome as his pictures indicate is still, in all probability, the crown prince of the Russian mafia. This littlethingwe seem to have during the recovery period must end the second he’s discharged from the hospital. I’m not going to allow this little Florence Nightingale syndrome we’ve got going go beyond the confines of these hospital walls.He sets those mesmerizing sapphire eyes upon me, they’re compelling me, dragging compliance forth from me. I have to break free of his gaze lest he take me under.“Nathan, I don’t think that’d be the best course of action.”“Why won’t you have dinner with me? Tell me, Dr. Wood,” he asks, his voice low, demanding my attention.“I--” I clear my throat. “As much as I’ve been enjoying your company, I simply don’t have the time to see you outside this place. As a fourth-year medical student, I have zero social life.”He frowns. “No social life at all?”“Not really and it’s only going to get worse,” I attempt to explain unable to hold his gaze. “I’m fairly confident I’m going to get the surgical residency at Presbyterian Hospital, the cardiothoracic training program to be specific. At which time, I’ll have no life to speak of. So, there’s really no point in pretending I will.”The knee-buckling smirk is back, making me grateful that I’m sitting. “It’s just one dinner, Madison. You name the place and time, I’ll be there.” The smile stretches wider, and he points to his face. “In a couple of weeks, the bruises will heal, and I won’t be so hard to look at.”A bark of laughter escapes me. Even with the bruises, this man is not hard on the eyes, and he knows it. “That’s definitely not the problem. Besides, you don’t owe me any thanks. I was just doing my job.”“Coming here to see me every day,” he replies and holds me captive with those eyes, “Was that also part of the job?”Did the room temperature just shoot up ten degrees? “Well, I work here. I pass by your room every day,” I force a laugh in an attempt to deflect his insinuation. “It would’ve been rude of me not to pop in to say hello.”His expression falls, though his gaze doesn’t falter. “What do I have to do to see you again? Wrap my car around another tree? I will if that’s what it takes.”“Don’t you dare,” I laugh nervously. “You were very lucky last time.”“Then agree to have dinner with me, Layla ,” he gives me a lopsided grin. “To prevent me from doing something rash.” His voice drops an octave. “It’s just one dinner. Say you’ll join me.”I peer at him, study him like a problem that I need to solve. His gaze doesn’t waver, not for one second. Why does this feel like it’s the first of many battles of wills we shall have?“You make it sound so simple,” I say. “Isn’t it?” “It’s complicated.” “That’s what makes it so “It?” “Us.” “Us?” I laugh. “Awfully, presumptuous of you.” He shrugs. I hold up a finger. “Onedinner,” I say. “That’s it.” He holds his silence neither agreeing nor objecting as he pins me with his unrelenting gaze. He does this a lot as if he’s drinking me in, studying every facet of me. I shake my head to break the trance I seem to fall under in his presence. It’s late, I’ve got to go home to get some much-needed sleep. “Alright,” I say, as I slowly rise from my chair. “Spokoynoy nochi, Mr. Wilson.” A wide grin splits his face, apparently impressed by my attempt to say good night in Russian. Yeah, so I learned a word or two. What’s the harm in that? I’m highly anxious as I ride the subway uptown. Silently, I berate myself for putting myself in this predicament. But Dr. Chleo invitation to watch the triple bypass surgery proved too irresistible to pass up. But amid the procedu
“You make it sound so simple,” I say. “Isn’t it?” “It’s complicated.” “That’s what makes it so“It?” “Us.” “Us?” I laugh. “Awfully, presumptuous of you.” He shrugs. I hold up a finger. “Onedinner,” I say. “That’s it.” He holds his silence neither agreeing nor objecting as he pins me with his unrelenting gaze. He does this a lot as if he’s drinking me in, studying every facet of me. I shake my head to break the trance I seem to fall under in his presence. It’s late, I’ve got to go home to get some much-needed sleep. “Alright,” I say, as I slowly rise from my chair. “Spokoynoy nochi, Mr. Wilson.” A wide grin splits his face, apparently impressed by my attempt to say good night in Russian. Yeah, so I learned a word or two. What’s the harm in that? I’m highly anxious as I ride the subway uptown. Silently, I berate myself for putting myself in this predicament. But Dr. Chleo invitation to watch the triple bypass surgery proved too irresistible to pass up. But amid the procedur
I meet his glass with mine. “Why thank you, Nathan. Maybe someday, when I have a social life, I’ll have a trophy husband onmyarm,” I say with laughter. Again, his expression falls. “Or, you could have me.” I pull back in my chair and stare at him. “We’ve known each other a whole ten days,” I chuckle. “How can you say things like that with a straight face?” “If one listens very carefully and watches for certain signs…you can learn all you need to know about a person in the space of one conversation. As a businessman operating within a very competitive environment, I must practice this skill on a daily basis to survive,” he says sternly. His smirk slowly returns. “You and I have had at least ten in-depth conversations, suffice to say, I know all I need to know about you.” I raise a brow at him. “All?” He chuckles. “All the important things. Regarding the minor details, that’s why we’re here tonight, so you can fill in the gaps.” I sit back and cross my arms over my chest. “Well, m
He nods for me to continue eating. “It pleases me to see you enjoy it. I know my effort wasn’t wasted.” “Oh, come on,” I say teasingly. “Did you really prepare this yourself?” He smirks. “Yes, I did. Is that so hard to believe?” For a moment, I’m deeply moved until… “Ah, is this part of your second date schtick? Invite the girl back to your place for an amazing gourmet meal prepared by your hand?” A shadow falls across his face. “I’ve never done this for anyone. Never even wanted to.” “Oh…” is all I can manage to say, sensing I’ve offended him. I attempt to lighten the mood. “Who knew Russian food could taste so amazing?” I take another bite. Nathan closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and takes a deep breath as if trying to calm his nerves. “What? Did you think we only ate gruel and stone-hard bread in Russia?” Uh-oh, this just took a turn for the worse. “No, of course not. Honestly, I never really gave the matter much thought. But,” I gesture at the meal. “Now I know, Russ
At exactly eleven minutes past seven, I hear my doorbell ring. She’s late. We’ll work on that. “Hello,” she practically purrs as she leans against the door frame. Her hair is down, falling about her shoulders and she’s wearing a long, stylish coat. A pair of dark high-heeled pumps set her at about 5’7 to my 6’2. “Dr. Wood.” I step aside and gesture for her to enter. She saunters in, her hips swaying beneath her coat and I’m dying to see what’s beneath it. Her scent is rich and alluring, pulling me in. “This place is incredible,” she says, gazing around at the high ceilings of this warehouse converted into an upscale home. She admires the beams and rafters, as well as the skylights in the ceiling. She then spies the table and breathes in deeply. “Something smells absolutely wonderful and I’m starving.” She turns to look at me. The hint of makeup accents her eyes and kiss-me-now lips. “Your coat,” I say with an outstretched hand. “Sure.” Chleo holds my gaze as she unfastens the sa
Holy fuck. I relent, relaxing back onto the cushions. “Proceed.” His eyes lock with mine as he gently pushes the fabric of my dress up to my waist. He slips his fingers into the waistband of my panties and draws them down off my hips, down off my thighs, down over my knees. He never breaks eye contact with me. I don’t even care how wet they must feel in his hands as he tosses them aside. Nathan lowers his head and begins drawing hungry hot kisses up the length of my quivering thighs. He takes his time, his mouth steadily making its way toward my slick vagina, driving me wild with anticipation. When his tongue finally slides over my throbbing bud, the moan escapes my throat unbidden. He slips his long fingers up inside me, in and out, in and out as he sucks and teases my clitoris with his tongue. I grab fistfuls of his long chestnut-brown hair and grind my sex against his mouth. It’s been so long, and Nathan feels so fucking good. The sweet torture is quickly reaching culmination,
But by then, you’ll likely be my wife, I started to say but held my tongue. The thought had come unbidden, but it felt so right as if it were the most natural progression for our relationship. In the following days, Chleo gave notice to the clinic and paid the remaining six months of her apartment lease. And just like that, her life now consists of two things, medical school and me. We’ll work on the priority. Four weeks in, Chleo regularly comes home to me after completing a shift and spends the night at my place. I fostered this arrangement, slowly encouraging her to move in with me without explicitly stating it. I know she thinks I’m just a love-sick fool for her. To a certain extent, she’s right, but she still doesn’t understand that I’m not just looking for a girlfriend. I could get that at the snap of a finger. No, I need so much more from Chleo. Her appetite for me is insatiable and it seems to energize her even after pulling a 12-hour shift at the hospital. I find it amus
To work on our cars,” I say sardonically. “She’s a highly skilled doctor, Mrs Wood. What do you think she can be recruited for?” Those ice-cold gray eyes fix upon me with a deadly warning. “Careful, little prince,” he says coolly. “You may be my nephew, but nothing’s written in stone.” It’s times like these that treasonous rumors spring to the surface. All agree that my father was gunned down in the street and that the assailant was never caught. Some said that it was fratricide, that Mrs Wood arranged the hit on his older brother. Those who made the mistake of verbalizing this opinion are no longer breathing. “Think of the timing, uncle,” I say urging him down a different path. “You know we just lost our house surgeon, but I think we’ve found a new one. I can bring her in, but I need time.” He broke out into raucous laughter, grabbing his round belly. “Go ahead, pull it out,” he says gesturing at my groin. “I must see this magic cock of yours that turns respectable, law-abiding do